Unlikely Story
by lostinanotherworld24
Summary: Mari has always been the girl he loves to hate, and a night together won't change that. Or will it?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Even though I have no business starting another fic, I'm still doing it because I couldn't resist. This will be in a very different format than my other fics, because it is more a collection of different mini-stories, than a coherent story. Obviously Marisol is my OC, and we'll delve more into her origins and details later.

This is inspired by Jersey Shore, "Down for It," specifically Angelina and Vinny hating each other and hooking up. However, credit also goes to incense and peppermint and their fic "Head Games," because that inspired the part about Pony not knowing everything about Soda like he thinks he does. Go check it out, it's so good. As always, leave me a review! Thanks for reading!

The sound of glass shattering and a barrage of curse words is how Dallas announces his presence one sunny June afternoon. Pony's stretched out on the front lawn, a book in one hand and a cigarette in the other; Marisol sits beside him, busily scribbling something down in a notebook. At the sudden explosion of noise, Marisol rolls her eyes, while Ponyboy focuses more intently on his book, hoping to go unnoticed by the world in general.

Dallas approaches the house, a wide smile on his face.

"Howdy do Ponyboy," he greets, grabbing the book out of Ponyboy's hands, shutting it, and throwing it behind himself as he walks away. Marisol squints her eyes, and launches her pencil so it goes end over end through the air, before smacking into the back of Dallas' head. He whips around, hand flying to cover the offended spot; with an air of boredom, she picks at her nails, completely ignoring the fuming greaser.

He stalks over to her, placing himself right in her personal space in an attempt at intimidation. However, she did not grow up with a rough and tumble brother for nothing, and therefore is completely unbothered and unafraid.

"Yes? Can I help you?" She asks, still refusing to look at him. He snatches her notebook, grinning maliciously.

"It'd be a shame if something happened to your precious writings," he taunts, and begins to grab a handful of pages, clearly intending to rip them out. Her foot shoots out and kicks him right in the back of his calf, an area she knows he's still sensitive in from being kicked by a horse the previous week. At the sudden pain, his hand relaxes automatically, and she grabs her notebook back.

"Thank _you_," she says. "Now you can go back to doing what you do best- being a complete waste of time, space, and oxygen."

Pony just chuckles at Dally's shocked expression.

Xxxxx

The feud between Marisol and Dallas is long-standing, which means they've hated each other from the moment they'd met. He'd made a dumb comment about how her hair couldn't _possibly_ be that color, and could he get her into bed just to make sure. That meant war, and from then on there seemed to be no possibility of surrender on either side.

At least not until the party at Buck's.

Richard James was a friend of Marisol's and Soda's throughout all of high school, the kind of guy who was easy to have fun with. Therefore, when a party was announced in his honor, the decision to go seemed obvious. Pony and Johnny were left at the house, and Marisol, Steve, Soda, Two-Bit, and Dallas headed out for a night of fun.

Music is blaring from the seedy bar as they pull up, people scattered in groups all across the front lawn and porch. None too gently, the group shoves their way through the crowd, all intending to spend a fine summer's evening by getting as drunk as possible. If they happen to do a little socializing as well, that's all the better.

Soda and Steve get yanked away the minute they walk through the door, and a group of giggling girls pull Two-Bit in as well. Dallas makes a beeline for the corner the Shepherd Gang occupies, and Marisol sees a few Brumly kids she knows from school. (She knows Pony thinks they're all really dumb, but they only told him that so that he wouldn't be tempted to spend time with them.)

Halfway through the night, Soda heads back to the bar another round of drinks. Marisol is leaning up against the bar, locked into a discussion with her best friend Caroline.

"I hate him, so much. I can't stand him!" Marisol asserts.

"I knew you'd eventually tell me your true feelings, Mari," Soda jokes, a sly smile crossing his face.

"Not you. Dallas," Marisol corrects. Soda laughs knowingly, and shakes his head. Steve overhears this and chuckles too.

Eventually, Steve gets so wasted that he's stumbling, and Two-Bit is in much the same boat. Soda isn't quite at that level, but he's almost there. Blearily he searches for Dallas and Marisol, herding them towards Steve's car. The ride home is silent, until Two-Bit and Steve break out into sudden cheers.

Soda glances into the backseat, and his eyes almost fall out of his head with shock. Marisol is leaning backwards, Dallas is leaning forward, and they are most definitely connected at the lips.

"Whoa!" Soda exclaims, eyeing the apparent couple in the rearview mirror. "How did _that_ happen?"

"Wasn't Marisol just saying tonight how much she hates Dallas?" Steve questions. Soda nods, eyes still wide.

"Those two ain't never gonna come to an agreement. Shit, Dallas could say that the sky is blue and grass is green, and she'd still contradict him, just to be ornery," Soda says.

Two-Bit stares at Soda confusedly.

"How the fuck can you say all those words and be so drunk?" Two-Bit slurs.

Soda shakes his head, with a grin that Two-Bit doesn't see. He's really not that drunk, and tends to switch to water halfway through a night, if only to avoid a massive hangover the next day. Pony thinks he doesn't drink at all, but what Pony doesn't know won't hurt him.

Mari suddenly comes up for air.

"Drop us off at my house," she slurs, one hand still cupping the back of Dallas' neck. Soda pulls up in front of Mari's house, watching as the couple stumbles their way up the front steps and through the door.

"Man, ain't no one can explain _that_," he decides.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So I said this wouldn't be a coherent story, and it's not, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So here it is. Hope you enjoy! Leave a review and let me know your thoughts and feelings.

Inspired by all those fics of Dally and Mrs.C having a close relationship. Plus, I figure everyone's gotta have somebody they can confide in.

"Get back here, ya filthy rotten greaser!" Steve shouted as Soda raced through the front door, with Steve not far behind. They darted into the kitchen, with Soda easily grabbing a spatula to use as a weapon; Steve grabbed a wooden spoon. A thrilling sword fight ensued, with little gasps of pain emitted when a hit was landed. Finally, a hand came from behind Steve and plucked the wooden spoon out of his hand. He turned and saw Soda's mom standing there, a somewhat stern expression on her face.

"Sorry Mrs.C, we was just playing around," Steve apologized sheepishly.

"Mmhm, I can see that. And what would you have done if something had gotten broken?" The older lady asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh...blamed it on Pony?" Soda admitted.

shook her head fondly, opening her palm for Soda to lay his weapon into.

"Why don't you go toss the football around instead of being a menace in my house? Or better yet, Soda, get a headstart on that homework I know you must have?"

Faster than lightning, the boys cleared out, mumbled explanations of football at the lot thrown vaguely her way. She smiled with contentment as the house finally was peaceful again, In a house with three sons, a husband, and five friends who might as well have been her children, peace and quiet was an oft-wished for prayer that rarely got answered.

Suddenly, the door opened and slammed shut again, with the sound of shuffling feet. took another sip of her coffee as Dallas came into the kitchen, leaning heavily against the stove.

"Well, hello, Dallas. How do you do?"

"Jus' fine, Mrs.C. And you?"

"Quite alright."

She expected him to ask after the locations of the other boys, although she only knew where her three plus Steve were; no one else had been round the house that day.

"Can I….talk to you about something?" Dallas asked unexpectedly.

"Well, sure. What's on your mind?"

"It's about Marisol."

She hid her smile in a sip of her coffee. Those two had been dancing around each other for so long, it was a wonder nothing had happened before.

"What about her?"

"Well, the other night she and I sorta, ugh….._got together_. We were both plastered, and it just kinda happened. But now everything's all weird between us, and it's like I don't hate her as much as I used to," Dallas confessed.

"Has she said anything about what happened?"

Dallas shook his head regretfully.

"No, now she won't even look at me."

She hummed at the pickle Dallas had found himself in. Dallas had been taught by the brutal realities of street life that emotions had no place in the game of survival, and that his best bet was to become hardened and emotionless. However, humans still felt things, even if those things were mainly negative. Dallas probably hadn't felt a positive emotion that wasn't connected to an animal in so long that he didn't know how to deal.

"She probably feels ashamed a bit herself, and is worried about how you'll perceive her. She also might be a touch worried that the guys in the group will ostracize her for being a quote-unquote 'tramp', or some other pejorative. So she's distancing herself from what happened, or rather, _who _it happened with. I would suggest you treat her just the same as you always have, and she'll come around. In fact, she might even be wanting to talk to you about it."

Dallas picked at his fingernails, contemplating the words of wisdom. It sounded like a good solution to him, since he really didn't have anything better. Firmly, he nodded.

"Alright. Thanks Mrs.C!" He shouted behind himself as he got up and left, the front door slamming behind him. Contently, smiled, and enjoyed the sweet sound of silence.


End file.
